


A Bottle of Beer

by Sharpiefan



Category: Star Wars Legends: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole, Star Wars: X-wing Series - Aaron Allston & Michael Stackpole
Genre: Character Study, Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 00:19:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/873565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sharpiefan/pseuds/Sharpiefan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A patient Corellian could be considered to be a contradiction in terms.</p><p>
  <i>(Contains slight spoilers for the early part of 'I, Jedi' by Michael Stackpole.)</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Bottle of Beer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [virusq](https://archiveofourown.org/users/virusq/gifts).



> I own nothing in the Galaxy Far Far Away. Well, unless you count a couple of Lego X-wings and a bunch of books.  
> Author's Note: Reading back through some (really) old posts in the wraithsquadron comm on LJ, I came across [this comment/prompt](http://wraithsquadron.livejournal.com/138438.html?thread=857798#t857798) by virusq.
> 
> _Be honest. How long does [Corran] sit on the couch and stare at the bottle of beer on the coffee table, focusing on levitation, before he gives up and grabs it?_
> 
> And fell about laughing. It has been a long, long time since I last read I, Jedi, where I think that particular bit occurs, so I apologise if I've remembered something wrongly.

Corran was still feeling... 'weird' was the only word he could think of, and it didn't even begin to cover it. He'd just been offered training at Luke Skywalker's Jedi Academy, when all he wanted was to tear off across the galaxy to wherever Mirax was, blast the scum who'd snatched her and bring her home again.

Problem was, he didn't know where she was. He'd always had a connection to her – through the Force, he realised now – but that connection was just _gone_ , leaving nothing but an emptiness. As if he'd had a tooth pulled, only infinitely worse. And like a man who'd had a tooth pulled, he kept worrying at it.

He shook himself and found that he was staring at the contents of the chiller in the kitchen. He reached in, ignoring the food, and took out a bottle of Corellian whiskey – the good stuff. Still in something of a daze, he took his prize, and a bottle-opener, back to the living room and put it on the table. 

_No time like the present for exploring my options, however limited they are,_ he thought, his first conscious thought since his conversation with Luke. 

He stared at the bottle. It was warming, beadlets of condensation forming and running down the sides. He reached out with his mind, to see whether he really did have Force powers and could use them to pick it up, the same way Luke could levitate things.

Nothing. 

The bottle sat there, tempting him. He could feel its dimensions, the chill of it, the wetness of the droplets on the glass, but he couldn't even stop one of those running down the side.

All those times on all those cases with CorSec when his father had told him to rely on his gut – had he been tapping into the Force even back then? 

So why couldn't he even shift a bottle of ale? It wasn't exactly an X-wing, for kriff's sake.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, and tried something else. If he couldn't lift it, maybe he could _push_ it.

Nothing.

“Oh, this is kriffing stupid,” he said, dropping his pose and sweeping one hand out to grab the offending bottle. 

He took the cap off with one efficient flick of the opener in his other hand and settled back on the sofa, glancing at his chrono as he did so.

Two minutes and thirty-five seconds after he'd pulled the bottle from the chiller, he swallowed the first mouthful of its contents.

Fifteen seconds later, the empty bottle dropped into the reclamation unit.


End file.
